April Showers
by Anita-Louise
Summary: If Kate thought back, she could still remember every detail, every blemish on his skin. Every little thing that made Jack, well, Jack.


**Title: **April Showers

**Author:** Anita-Louise.

**Summary: '**If Kate thought back, she could still remember every detail, every blemish on his skin. Every little thing that made Jack, well, Jack.' **AU**.

**Pairing: **Jack/Kate.

**Rating:** PG-13 for safety.

**Notes and thanks: **A thousand thanks to Sarah for beta. This is a companion piece to another that wrote: 'Rain', and they can be read as a pair or separately.

* * *

If Kate thought back, she could still remember every detail, every blemish on his skin. Every little thing that made Jack, well, Jack.

The first thing she noticed was his eyes. Sad eyes, with crows' feet at the corner, that would have made some men look old. With Jack, they gave him an intelligent air. They made him seem trustworthy. He couldn't have been more than mid-thirties, but it bothered her that she had never thought to ask how old he was. Between fighting the Others, saving lives, and treating every sunburn and skinned knee that came his way, it must have slipped both their minds.

Then, she saw his hands. Despite their gentle touch, Kate could see that they were good, strong hands. Sometimes she caught herself wondering how many women he had pleasured with those fingers. She only saw them waver twice, once, when he was trying desperately to find a way to save Boone after the accident, and the other, when he had pushed her out of the way. Saving her.

His tattoo had piqued her interest immediately, and she had often found herself staring at it when he was across the beach talking to the others about some new medical 'emergency'. She had asked him once what it meant and he had evaded the question, saved by Charlie and his rotten timing. She hated Charlie for that. She had touched it, stroked it once and studied it intensely while he was asleep. He had been so exhausted from the ordeal of the sixty previous days that he hadn't even stirred.

When Jack came to see her, babbling about Henry and the Others and a trek into the jungle, she had agreed to accompany him. Their silent feud seemed forgotten, and she was loathe to bring it up once more. So, she had gone to Sawyer and flirted with him to get a gun out of him. She told him that she was heading deeper into the jungle to search for more fruit. Somehow, she neglected to mention that she was going with Jack.

She was not surprised when Sawyer handed over the weapon. Sawyer made sense. He was not such an enigma to her as Jack was. What did surprise her was the drawling man's parting kiss. It was a nice kiss, but it didn't make her "weak in the loins".

They set out early morning while it was still overcast, heading east until they both silently agreed to make camp. Jack was in charge of the fire and Kate of drying their clothes which had been drenched by an earlier downpour.

They huddled together, enjoying the warmth radiating from the fire, and from each other. Kate shivered a little in the cool night air. Gently, Jack rested his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to him. Right against his heart and that tattoo, both things connected and then not. But both Jack.

Perhaps exhaustion had made her lean into him so easily, so comfortably. But she didn't feel exhausted. The thing she felt was more visceral. But she did feel his arms pull her close to his chest, and felt him bury his face in her hair. She clung forcefully to his shirt, feeling his heart race as fast as hers.

They held one another for what felt like hours, but was probably more like minutes. For weeks, she had felt a certain tension between them, both in the words that they had exchanged and in those they had not. But now, she felt that tension between them ebbing away to nothingness. Weeks of torment since their impromptu kiss now turned to easy delight.

It had been a long time since she'd been so close to anyone. It felt good, but frightening too. She wondered if Jack could even understand. He was such an open book. But when Kate looked into his eyes, she saw fear.

She wasn't sure whether it was his fear or simply her own reflected back at her. And suddenly, the urge to tell him… to tell him everything overwhelmed her. She wanted -- _needed _to tell him everything about Wayne, and her mom, and about Tom, oh Tom. As much as it terrified her, she knew that the fear she felt would never allow her to have the intimacy she craved unless she told him the truth. All of it.

"I need to tell you what I did…" she sighed, turning to him. "And why."

He paused, thinking it over.

"Alright."

She heard herself telling him every dirty little secret that she had carried for the last five years in one continuous flood of truth that she feared would never end. She watched his face change gradually as she talked, then cried, then sobbed. His expression had changed from shock to pity and then to disgust. That look. It was the same one Jack always gave Sawyer when he found out that he had been hoarding something vital. She felt her heart clench when she saw it. She hung her head, sure she had lost him just as surely as she had lost Tom when she felt his fingers lift her chin and his lips press softly against hers. His lips…

Those fingers, those beautiful, strong fingers caressed her skin tenderly. Warmth seared her cool skin. She relished the sensation. She let him in, let his kiss break down the barriers she had built around herself -- barriers that walled out the pain that so often accompanied and walled in the pain of knowing how. Tom would have loved her if she had let him. How could a doctor love a con?

There had been no sign of the Others, but still, they didn't fall asleep. Instead, they passed the hours talking.

With each passing minute she learned more about Jack, and he about her. They lost themselves in one another. In this small fire lit world, all that existed was her and Jack, the sounds from the crackling fire, and movement from the undergrowth.

She tore herself away from him, her heart racing even faster as she tried to make out the shape hidden in the furtive shadows. She gasped as the moonlight glinted off the smooth, hard barrel of the gun and she let out a scream without even realising it.

She felt Jack push her forcefully out of the way as she heard the resounding echo of the gunshot ring through the small clearing.

Jack grabbed at his chest, pressing his hands over the spot where moments previously her hands, her forehead, her lips had been, trying to smother the crimson that bled out. She let out a sob as she fell to her knees beside him. The shadow man had gone.

Rain mixed with her tears.

A lot of rain.

He groped frantically for her. When she offered her hand, he took it and pressed it to the hole in his chest. She felt warm gouts of his blood flowing between her fingers. There was nothing she could do for him, just as there had been nothing she could do for Tom. Kate looked into Jack's eyes -- kind eyes. She expected to see panic; but instead, she saw calm . This time, it was her hands that soothed him. Strong and delicate entwined together. A doctor and a con.


End file.
